Russia's Insanity
by June-Malatesta
Summary: Ivan is once again on the brink of insanity, and unfortunately doesn't have the Baltics anymore to keep him in check. Will he finally let loose on the world, or will his chance meeting in a bar forever change him? *FEM!America *
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia. . . . . .yeah...that's pretty much it. ;D

PLEASE REVIEW! :3

**~X~X~X~X~**

Ocher.

Perhaps burnt umber?

It was hard to tell, but the tall, cold nation couldn't help but keep attempting to decide whether the meeting table was ocher or burnt umber. It was rather dark, obviously, since it was re-stained. He didn't like the new color.

The conversation the others in the summit room were having struck no chord of intrigue in the man. Occasionally he would hear his name being mentioned or called upon, and he'd simply lift his gaze from the glazed wood to whoever mentioned him, giving his own trademark smile. Quite a naturally robotic thing for him, even if it _did_ scare the others maybe a _little_ bit.

Usually, his smile would be so unnaturally wide that his cheeks would rise enough that he could shut his eyes as he did so. This served him well. He wouldn't want anyone to look him in the eyes. His cold, nearly lifeless stagnant violet eyes that in themselves emitted the truly heartless aura that he only truly showed at home.

Only at home; He promised himself that.

**-X-X-X-**

As the meeting ended, he waited a few minutes behind to stare at the wood of the table, his fingers tracing along the streaks of the wood silently.

Such torturous silence.

It didn't take long before the Russian gave up and stood, the chair squeaking as it was pushed back against the hardwood floor. He didn't flinch. Even the most obnoxious sound seemed comforting compared to that all-too-familiar silence that his isolation greeted him with each day as he went home; an icy greeting that he'd grown somewhat used to over the years but hated dealing with.

He wasn't always this way, though. There used to be life in his house, life and joy and family. His big sister would give him the motherly care he would have otherwise not had. His younger sister, although with insane antics, would still keep him company. At the time, he felt suffocated by them, but now, he missed their loving touch. Both were now in their own houses, barely bothering to remember to call him occasionally. Even Belarus was too preoccupied with different things.

He had control over the Baltic states, the three weak nations giving him that company that he craved as he aged further. The problem was, that, by that point, his mind began slipping into the freezing void of madness. With that, so did his care for them.

Sometimes he began to mimic his older sister, acting as a parent to the Baltics. If they were bad 'children', it was only logical for him to punish them, right? That Lithuania was the worst-behaved of the bunch. Almost every day he would receive some form of punishment, and, as the years progressed, the punishments became worse and more sensitive to the smallest mistakes. It was only upon looking back that Ivan regretted what he'd done, and he couldn't forget. Every mark left and drop of blood spilled from the Baltic nation was burned as an image into Ivan's mind, constantly plaguing his dreams and thoughts until he was reduced to a trembling mess.

Not that it was much different than usual for him.

The tall man walked out of the meeting room slowly, focusing on the sound of his heavy footsteps echoing indefinitely in the large room as he headed to the door. Gripping the handle tightly with his gloved hand, he pulled it open. The door almost fell off the hinges with the force.

There were still some countries occupying the hallways making idle chat with each other as he continued down to leave the building. Some stopped to look at him, but he tilted his head down slowly as he walked, platinum bangs covering his violet eyes rather well. He was still smiling.

_Click_.

_Creak._

_Step._

He entered his house, the ghastly aura breezing right past him; and, for once, it bothered him somehow. Ivan dropped his keys and ran from the house immediately, trying to find any place that was safe.

Eventually he found himself at a bar a good way from his house, the dimly-lit room rather warm as opposed to the almost freezing temperatures outside. There weren't that many people in the place, just a few lonely men here and there. It's what's expected on a weekday evening. Nothing special was happening that day—at least, not for him. The bartender slid him a shot glass and a bottle of his best vodka, and Ivan drank.

He drank…and drank.

Third empty bottle of vodka slammed down on the table. Ivan was barely buzzed.

The bell on the door clinked as someone entered the room, heavy boots clacking against the wood floor and stopped at the bar, the figure sitting two seats from him. He caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye as the bartender brought them their drink, his eyes scanning up and down. The figure was a young adult female, short blonde hair, bright blue eyes from what he could see, short shorts, cowgirl boots, and a white blouse that wasn't worn correctly…

Oh…tied at the middle.

What was such a strange girl doing in Russia this time of year, much less not even walking around in a coat?

His eyes drifted downward again, her firm, beautiful long legs crossed beneath the counter and barely touching the floor with her toe. Ivan's feet were firmly against the ground with room to keep going.

So she was shorter than him.

And she didn't look at all like a Russian.

Who was she? He didn't remember her…but there was something familiar—

"Howdy!" She chirped, turning to look at him with a bright smile. He froze. Ivan didn't even realize he was still looking at her even when she began turning.

"Uhm…hello…." He said quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching up habitually into the creepy smile.

She didn't even flinch.

"My name's Amelia! Who are you, Darlin'?" She asked. Ivan's smile faded as a slight wave of heat seeped through his jacket to his skin. Blinking a few times, he took note that she'd moved to the seat right next to him.

_No wonder she didn't wear a coat…she's so warm…_

He unconsciously leaned forward slightly, the heat increasing and soaking through his clothing the closer he got. A burning hand finally touched his shoulder and nudged him back a bit.

"Y'all alright? Did'ya have too much to drink?" She looked over at the three empty bottles of vodka and the fourth being dropped onto the table.

"I asked what yer name is." Ivan snapped out of his trance and looked back at the shot glass he was holding, examining it a moment before putting it down

"Nyet…nyet…I'm fine…. M-my name's Ivan." Why did he say that? She was a complete stranger who opened herself up to him so far. Why did he do the same? Her bright smile returned.

"Howdy, I~van!" She giggled. Was this girl already tipsy? She'd only had half a pint! Maybe that was why she was acting so strangely…

"hey…" Ivan felt a blush rush to his face as she lowered her head slightly, an adorable pleading look to her face that was so tempting…

Before he could grab her, she spoke again

"Do you know a place I could stay for the night? I'm here visiting family, but I got in a fight with them and don't want to go back just yet…" It was such a lie—but he didn't know that.

"Da." He said before he could stop himself. Amelia perked her head up again, wrapping her arms around him tightly in happiness.

"That's great! Thank'ya!" Ivan now had to think of a place she actually _could_ stay at. This part of town wasn't much for business or tourists, so there weren't any hotels in walking distance. He glanced out the window. With the temperature freezing now and dropping with each passing second into the night, she wouldn't be able to make it without getting sick—or worse.

Lightbulb.

He could allow her to stay at his house if she wasn't too afraid. Maybe just someone else's presence in the house would make it more welcoming? It would make him feel better, for sure.

Ivan was almost completely lost in the warmth that accompanied her embrace. He indulged in it for the few moments it remained, her scent intoxicating.

"…come with me." He stood, holding out his hand to her after laying his pay on the counter for both of them. She took his hand cheerfully, allowing him to lead her.

Only minutes into the walk and Ivan could feel the shivers that spanned through her body. He stopped and took off his coat, handing it to her. It barely kept off the ground when she put it on, looking so small in that large coat. He smiled; she looked adorable.

They completed their walk together without trouble, Ivan having had a long black shirt beneath the coat. Occasionally Amelia would glance over and watch his muscles flex with each step through the shirt.

What an odd couple walking in the middle of the night, one wearing an oversized jacket, and the other wearing a muscle-tight shirt and a thick scarf around his neck in the beginning of winter.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia**

**WARNING: Gore **

As they approached Ivan's house, he looked out of the corner of his eye at the woman's reaction. She seemed fascinated by the style of it, and unaffected by the creepiness of the large house at all. Strange. Rarely did anyone walk this way, so there was no one but them around. He walked up to the door and opened it, allowing her inside after giving the eerie dark entranceway a skeptic smile. She trotted in cheerfully, flipping on a light switch as if she always knew it was there, and looking around

"Pretty~!"

…

What? That's the last thing he thought she'd say. Were she any normal person, she wouldn't even have had the courage to walk within ten yards of the front door. There was definitely something special about her, he just didn't know exactly what it was.

"Do you mind showing me to my room right away? I'm quite tired~" She chirped, turning to him. Russia blinked a few times before nodding and taking his jacket off of her, putting it on a coat rack and leading her up the stairs. The way he stepped was almost cautious, as if the floor were going to swallow him up at any second, but the way she walked was so careless and innocent that it gave him some sense of security. He didn't know why, either. Up in the second floor hallway, he slammed some doors shut that had been left open for some reason, and she jumped at the sudden break in silence.

She didn't really like the silence anyways, so she decided to talk to him, but before she could, he opened a door at the end of the hall and motioned her in.

"This is your room." It was decorated a bit plainly. The bedding was a pale blue, the walls a faded flower pattern that didn't really mix with the blue. The carpet was beige, and there were a few other pieces of furniture in there that looked more like a mix of things from yard sales than the antiques they really were. It was the nicest room he could think to put her in—the others he wouldn't dare to open due to…sentimental reasons. _This_ room was actually designed to be a guest room.

"The bath room is the second door on the left, here." He knocked on the door with his knuckle, and could have sworn he hear d a decrepit whisper echo from it. She smiled at him, causing him to forget that.

"Thanks, sweetie~! You're real kind~" Her smile was so warm, Ivan could feel the goose-bumps popping up already. He cleared his throat and turned his back to her.

"My room is on the other side of the hall, in case you need anything." Her smile faded slightly, the tone of his voice saying that she better not need anything. The slightest sense of danger finally began to set in, and she turned to enter the bathroom first and wash her face. The bathroom was so white, everything in it made of porcelain. It was so clean, and smelled like wildflowers. How could a man who has a bathroom that smells like wildflowers have a house so dangerous? She let the water run and splashed it in her face, the floorboards creaking as he walked back to his room. He slammed the door again.

Sighing, Amelia returned to her guest room and took of most of her clothes, laying in the bed and staring at the window for a few minutes before closing her eyes.

A few hours passed in complete silence, the temperature of the house dropping slowly as time passed. Little creaks and hisses echoed through the house, and Amelia tried to pass it off as nothing until she heard a loud crash from down the hall. Jumping to her feet, she ran out the room and down the hall, stopping and leaning up against Ivan's room door.

"Ivan?" she bit her lip in worry, the room behind the door only emitting the sounds of quiet whimpering. Reaching for the handle, Amelia slowly opened the door and peeked into the room. The door only opened about halfway, blocked by a fallen dresser. Ivan, shirtless and hunched over, sat on the edge of the bed with his back turned to her. The room was dark, and the only window in the room was covered mostly by dark drapes, so the small stream of light coming in barely hit Ivan's pale white skin.

"Ivan?" Amelia whispered, slipping through the doorway and walking over to him carefully. Ivan didn't budge. "Are you hurt?" She reached out to touch him, but his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, throwing her down onto the ground. She yelped, looking up at him in surprise. He greeted her with his twisted smile, despite the tinge of tears threatening to spill from his reddened eyes.

"What is it you need, Amelia?" He said, his voice so childish for such a large man. Amelia simply stared up at him, mouth agape with no words to coherently speak. The clock on the wall left the only audible sound in the room, ticking—

_ Tic._

_ Tic._

_ Tok._

"No answer?" Amelia attempted to protest, but he'd reached down and grabbed her by the throat before he could. Pulling her onto her knees in front of him, he held her by an iron grip, his ice cold hand bleeding the cold into her neck as he tightened his grip. She tried to pry his hands off, but it was useless. She was losing her strength.

"You entered my room without permission. Such a rude guest. And you don't even have anything to say for yourself~!" He giggled. Tears stung the corner of her eyes, her arms trembling as she tried to hold them up. she wanted to tell him so badly that she came in worrying about him because of the crash, that the scars on his body she could see in the moonlight scared her and struck a chord of awe in her, and that at this point she wouldn't be able to stand seeing the tears in his eyes rolling down his cheeks while he had that innocent and childish voice that gave both a sense of lethality and naivety. She wanted to tell him for her sake and his.

"People who are rude should be punished, da?" A strong gust of wind smacked against that side of the house, the room seeming to tilt unnaturally, the house creaking. He tossed her against a dresser. She gasped, a raspy, shallow intake of air at the relief on the muscles on her neck and her lungs. Amelia lay on the ground, half curled up and unable to move as the feeling slowly returned to her body. Unfortunately, he'd stood and walked over to her before she could even run. What had gotten into him? Briskly, he yanked her up by the hair and brought her to eye level, looking into her bright eyes as tears streamed down both their faces.

"Your hair is just as golden as sunflowers. I love sunflowers." Oh, how Amelia hoped that meant he'd let her go.

She was so wrong.

"Have you ever seen a sunflower with a red center, instead of dark brown? They're really pretty, and really rare." Ivan giggled and let her fall to the ground before stepping on her stomach. She coughed. "I've only seen one before…my boss made one. They can only be handmade, you know." Amelia looked up at him in confusion, fear, and despair.

"Wh-wh-" she coughed again as he stomped on her chest, the audible shattering of ribs like music to Ivan's ears—as well as her screams of pain.

"you were saying something? You lost your chance to defend yourself. I must finish punishing you now." Ivan stepped off of her and headed to his closet while she writhed in pain on the ground.

Her eyes narrowed when he came back with a pipe in one hand, and a knife in the other.

"N-NO! IVAN! STOP!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. His childish smile faded immediately, leaving his expression cruel and unnerved.

"Didn't I just say your time for talking was over? Now I have to draw out your punishment…tsk tsk…"

Oh how this brought him back. As he looked down at her, he remembered the same pained look on the poor Baltic nations that fell to his whim…but they stopped screaming after a while. She was a screamer, and he loved that. The screams of pain and shrieks of protest rang in his ears like a lullaby. This was definitely more pleasurable than punishing the other nations. Punishing this strange woman excited him. As he stepped in front of her, he put the knife in his pocket and grabbed her arm again, pulling her onto her knees to lean over the side of the bed as if she were saying evening prayers. Although, that was quite the opposite of what what was going to happen. Her body was already in such a weak state that she couldn't do anything but try and take the pain, and pray that he wouldn't kill her.

He's have a good time trying, too. She was a nation, just as he was, but he didn't know that.

_He pulled her arm out to the side along the bed._

She never went to the meetings, so it didn't surprise her that he didn't recognize her; but she definitely recognized him from what her brothers told her. Her brothers were America and Canada.

_She shut her eyes tightly and screamed in pain as the pipe slammed down on the back of her elbow, breaking her arm as if it were a twig._

She was the southern half of the country, the once rebellious Antebellum South. Since the end of the civil war, she'd decided to accept Alfred as her brother, although she wasn't allowed at the meetings. Barely anyone could recognize her, so she would travel among the nations to get to know them by observation until Alfred would allow her to join into the meetings. Perhaps he didn't trust her yet.

_He laughed. "Yes~! Scream for me~! If you scream enough, I will reward you~!" He twisted her broken arm, her screams of pain turning into shrieks of pure agony._

One of the nations she'd followed recently was Russia. He fascinated her in ways no other country had. She didn't fear him whatsoever…up until now.

_He released her hand, gingerly running his fingers down her other arm before lacing his fingers with hers and bringing it up slightly. He sat down on the bed and looked at her hand carefully._

Russia was the first nation she really interacted with other than her family, as well. Her fascination in the past few months had turned into admiration, and slowly she found herself unable to stay away from his raw power, his kindness toward such things as sunflowers.

_Her whole body was frozen to the pain as he took each finger and snapped the knuckles back, breaking knuckle by knuckle on her hand until there were none left. Her screams had turned into defiant hisses by this point, and he scowled._

_ "Come, scream for me some more!" He smiled down at her again taking her limp arm and putting it on his knee a moment before lifting it and slamming it down to break her forearm in half. She screamed again._

The lie she told him at the bar, about having gotten into a fight with her family, was a lie she came up with to get close to him. She knew very well there weren't any places to stay, and she'd followed him from the outside of the summit building just to have the chance to spend this time with him.

_ "Good! Your screams are really amazing, Amelia~!" He released that arm and grabbed herby the shoulders, pulling her up onto the bed and cradling her like she was an infant. His hug was so strong it hurt more than being left alone, but she doubted he realized the strength._

It seems she began to regret everything now.

"I will make you into a red-centered sunflower~!" Ivan chirped, nuzzling his nose into her bruised neck. She hiccupped, tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked at him with agonized eyes. This was unbelievable.

Before she could recognize it, he'd taken her off his lap to the bed, spreading her limbs and tying them with rope to the four posts of the bed. She remained still, the extension of her limbs already painful enough. Ivan put the pipe down and pulled the knife from his pocket, bringing it to her cheek.

"Do you know how you make a red-centered sunflower~?" He asked, the innocent voice back. She gulped, turning away from the blade. Ivan grabbed her jaw and brought her back to look at him, his face inches from hers.

"First, you find someone with the hair of the sunflowers~ Like your hair!" His smile widened, "then, you strap them down _just like this~_" He glanced at the ropes before looking down at the knife and bringing it up to her eye so she could see it. "You then take a knife, and cut ri~ght along their jaw…" He began to slice into her skin, replacing his hand with the blade. The knife traced around her chin, the cut as deep as it could go. She tried to turn away, but the wounds only became worse.

This had to be some sort of nightmare.

Too bad it wasn't.

"And then, you cut up and around their hairline~~" As he did this, more blood stained her skin and hair. She tried to think of something, _anything_ that would stop him.

"And you put the knife down, see? So you can do this part with both hands~!" He reached up to her forehead, "Lastly, you take hold of their skin and slowly pull it back~! Sometimes it takes a few times…" the touch of his fingers stung the wounds, and she tensed, screaming at the top of her lungs

"IVAN, I'M SORRY! I LOVE YOU!"

….

He stood there in silence a moment, his smile completely gone as he looked down at her crying face. The salty tears stung her wounds as well.

"What? You must be joking." Ivan laughed nervously. It was strange to him. Those words had never been said toward him since his sisters left. Amelia shook her head, shattering his thought.

"I love you, Ivan…please don't do this…I don't want to be a sunflower…" She sniffled, the slightest movement sending a shockwave of pain through her, but she didn't show it.

"I…" Russia was at a loss for words, for once.

As the clock ticked to midnight on the wall, they had their eyes locked in an unnatural trance neither could recognize.

**Author's note: If you haven't realized this by now by my other fanfics…I'm pretty twisted. :D **

**NOW tell me what you want for this. Do you want more gore? Do you want more romance~? Do you want smut? X3 **

**Post a review telling me your decision!**


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